


Lost in the Echo

by poopityfoo



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, General Warehouse 13 Goodness, Hurt/Comfort, Magical Artifacts, Recovery, Team as Family, pete being pete
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 00:44:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4501278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poopityfoo/pseuds/poopityfoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU<br/>During an artifact hunt, a vibe from Pete leads the Team to a suburban secret.<br/>A different way Claudia comes to our favorite warehouse family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea that's been bugging me for a while since I started rewatching the show from the beginning. I'm putting the prologue out there and seeing if anyone wants to see this thing go forward. If not, I don't know. I'll probably take it off of here and try it on another ff site. It's just been living in my brain and developing itself like crazy.
> 
> It's an AU for sure. A different take on Claudia joining up with the warehouse family. HG is a full-fledged agent already. Bering & Wells will be involved, but not the main focus.
> 
> *Disclaimer—I don't own Warehouse 13 or any of its characters (including the warehouse itself since it's pretty much a character itself) and I'm making no money from this. All I get is a good time and hopefully some feedback. Title credit belongs to Linkin Park.
> 
> ***This chapter has some disturbing elements but it doesn't get graphic.

-LOST IN THE ECHO-

Chapter 1.

The decade old truck rumbled down the familiar streets as the man, Andrew Ballent, reached the final stretch of his long commute home. He let out a sigh as he finally pulled into the driveway of his modest home. The sun had set and he could see the glow from the upstairs window he knew to be the master bedroom. He killed the engine and walked up to the faded blue door to let himself in as quietly as possible.

The lights downstairs were all out so he immediately began the trek upstairs towards the source of the light. His back ached from the long day and he was desperate to get out of his uniform and get to his preferred method of releasing the tension that built up throughout the day.

But first, he walked into the master bedroom and grinned at the sight of his wife who was clearly fresh out of the shower. He took a breath of preparation before walking.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," he greeted while walking leisurely towards the blonde in the towel.

"Hey you," she replied with a bright smile.

It was the strangest thing, he knew he was supposed to love that smile. He was supposed to love his wife, and he had the memory that he actually had felt those things for Tricia at one time. In the last year, however, he began feeling more and more like he was just playing a part. He started having to fake affection that should come naturally; towards his wife, kids, and friends. But once he discovered what it was that actually did bring him joy, playing the role of happy husband, loving father, was a piece of cake as long as he had his nights to let it out.

"You're home earlier than usual," her voice brought him out of his thoughts as she came towards him.

"Clear highway," he replied, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Saved you some dinner."

"Mm, what did you have?"

"Some pasta with my very own, homemade, garlic bread," the woman spoke with pride while he was well past ready to leave the conversation and finally have a chance to get to it. It had been a few days since he'd been able to and he was getting antsy. But he knew he had to continue to be smart about it. His wife had no clue and he wanted to keep it that way.

"Yummy," he continued to play, even giving her a quick kiss for good measure, "How'd that go over with the picky people?"

"Well, Matty ate it up," she answered, "I swear I don't know where that boy puts it."

"He's six, he doesn't put it anywhere," he commented, "It just becomes energy right away. What about Jess?"

Now she sighed, "Your daughter has declared a war on carbs. She refused anything but salad. That was fun."

"My daughter, huh?" he asked with a perfected chuckle.

"She gets her stubborn head from you."

He scoffed, "Tricia-"

She mocked him in an exaggerated manner, "Andrew."

He laughed at her antics and gave her another kiss before pulling away and beginning to change out of his uniform. She sat on the bed and watched him while asking, "Do you want me to heat some up for you?"

"No, no I got it," he dismissed as he slid on his sweatpants, "You go ahead and lay down. I want to pop into the kids' rooms real fast then I'll fix myself a plate and take it out to the shed."

"You mean the Man Cave?" she teased and he grinned.

"Hey, a guy's gotta have a little space all his own," he said with a shrug.

"Yeah, yeah go do your thing," she stated, "Will you be long?"

"Nah," he shook his head, "An hour, maybe a little more, just want to wind down from the day."

She gave him a smile and moved to lie down on the mattress and leaving him to his irregular routine. It wasn't a nightly thing, but it had been happening more often than it used to lately; Andrew would spend time alone at night out in the shed he'd reworked into a knock-around place of his own.

She had to admit that she had let curiosity get the better of her and looked in when he wasn't home, but found nothing extraordinary. It was just a quiet space to tinker with hobbies and spend some time relaxing. So she thought nothing of it and let him have his alone time. Relaxing against the pillow she heard the back door open and close, knowing he would be at least an hour, she switched off the lamp and closed her eyes; there was no need for her to wait up.

There was nothing to worry about.

XXX

XXX

The frosted grass crunched under his feet as he crossed the yard towards the renovated shed. Balancing the plate and a bottle of water in one hand, he opened the door and let himself in. He clicked on the light and continued to move after locking the door behind him. He began to whistle a slow tune as he turned on the stereo and passed the lounge chair facing the television. He came to the island bar he'd had installed. This was the custom bit that cost the most time and money.

It was a stroke of genius he'd had and he'd taken out a generous loan to cover it all; another little thing his wife didn't need to know about. Getting everything done without her knowing the immensity of it all was a bit more difficult but he'd managed to get the majority taken care of when he'd convinced her he had to stay behind to work during the Christmas trip to her parent's place.

He opened the cabinet and felt along the side for the hidden button and pressed it. An audible click sounded and he set the dinner down on top of it while he pushed the structure, sliding the entire thing to the side and revealing a staircase below. Grabbing the plate and bottle once more, he took a few steps down. He paused only to grab the handle beneath the fixture and pull it back into place with another click.

He continued to whistle as he descended the spiral staircase into the dark hidden room. The tune echoed eerily off the concrete walls along with the steady steps of his shoes.

Andrew came to a table with a small closed circuit television on it that showed the perimeter of the shed on four quarter screens; the cameras discreetly hidden under the overhang of the roof. He set himself down in the chair and swirled it around to face the opposite side of the small room.

"So," he began, nonchalantly, "how was your day?"

He looked across the space as he pulled the plate into his lap and began to twirl pasta around the fork. There was a small clinking sound that came from the still darkened area, but other than that no response.

"What? You're not talking to me now?" he questioned, sounding offended. "I know it's been a few days, but come on, I've got a busy life, you know. Work and family…you ever try raising a hyperactive boy and a moody teenage girl? Plus all that extra crap. Soccer games, school trips, and God all the neighbors! I tell you if I have to go to the Millers' one more time and listen to Isaac go on and on about who cares…" he cut himself off with a groan of frustration.

The mask he had to wear had completely vanished from his features.

"I'm sorry, but my world doesn't revolve around you. That's all I'm saying."

He paused to take another bite, hearing a shuffle of movement and, again, the sound of metal on metal.

"Mm," he moaned, "Damn, this is good."

Now he got a more verbal response. A quiet moan came from the shadow.

"Oh!" he voiced almost sounding genuine in his surprise, "I'm sorry. I'm being a terrible host. You're probably hungry aren't you?"

He picked up the bread and the water bottle while rising to his feet. He pulled the chain above him and light flooded the room. He looked down at the slumped figure in the char below him. The mop of sweaty matted hair covered her head as it hung listlessly against her chest. He bent his knees and lowered in front of the chair and waved the bread under her face.

"Hey," he taunted as he did so, "You hungry or what?"

He tapped the food against her cheek in a less than gentle fashion. Hands twitched in the cuffs, singing out the familiar sound of their metal against the arms of the chair.

"There you go," he commented; his voice carrying an unsettling tone, as if he was talking to an obedient pet, "Pick up that head and I'll even give you some water."

Another moan came and after a moment her head struggled to rise. After the strain on her neck, she was finally able to look at her tormentor through drooped eyes.

"There we are. I knew you could do it," he complimented with a grin that could have been attractive if there weren't that glint in his eyes. His smile faded for a second and he sneered, "Wow, smells like it's time for another shower, huh kid? Well, we'll do that first."

He stood back up and a cracked whimper came as the food left with him. Andrew noticed this and clicked his tongue at her.

"Stop it," he berated, "You want me to have dinner with you when you smell like that?"

He moved behind her chair, spinning it around and pushing it towards the corner stopping her over the drain in the floor. He grabbed the end of the hose and turned it on, holding his hand under the flow for only a second before pulling it away.

"Oh that's cold!" he stated and laughed, "Well, I don't know why it surprises me every time."

He laughed a few more times as he cranked the nozzle all the way up. He set a hand on the back of her neck tightly and leaned in to speak wickedly in her ear.

"Are you ready Claudia?"

He felt her tense up under his touch and laughed again before stepping back and lifting the hose over her head.

XXX

XXX

XXX

XXX


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, I'm encouraged enough to add a part two. It's double the length of the previous chapter but there was no where else I felt the break should go in this. 
> 
>  
> 
> My biggest struggle in this was capturing Myka in a way that made me happy. She was the hardest one for me. Hopefully I didn't suck at it.

LOST IN THE ECHO

 

Chapter 2

 

"Watch your eyes!"

Myka heard her partner's declaration as she knocked down the young woman she'd managed to wrestle the hairclip away from and slide over to Pete. She spun around towards him, lifting her hand up in perfect timing to shield her eyes from the flash and sparks of the static bag.

"Woohoo-hoo!" Pete sing-songed, riding the adrenaline high of a successful mission, "Looks like that's Pete and Myka, one and Elsie Couch a big, fat zero!"

"Ilse Koch," Myka corrected him as she stood up straight and pulled out her Farnsworth.

"I'm sorry, did I offend the Nazi by saying her name wrong?" Pete asked as he held his hands up. His partner gave him half a laugh before turning her attention to the screen.

"Myka?" the accented voice came immediately from the device, "Is everything alright? Did you get it?"

"Artifact neutralized, everyone's ok here," she replied, "What about there? How are the students?"

"Unconscious at the moment. I suspect it occurred simultaneous to the artifact's neutralization," she informed; glancing around at the group laid out in various places of the cafeteria. They'd fallen suddenly and all at once; which was fine with Helena seeing as they were all aiming to dismember her at the time. She turned back to the screen with a smile, "Thanks for that, by the way."

Myka smiled back at her and answered, "You can owe me."

Helena laughed and gave her a wink before Pete obnoxiously cleared his throat to get his partner's attention.

"If you're done being all 'cute' and stuff, can we get going," he requested, slapping his hand against his stomach, "This guy needs some post-mission nachos."

Myka shook her head at him, "Meet us back at the main office."

The three agents were soon exiting the main office of the Farmington Correctional Center, an alternative school for –what they called – problematic students. Their explanation for what happened seemed to appease the grumpy administrator well enough, but it was more likely he was just happy it was over and they would be leaving his building.

"You know, sooner or later we'll run into someone who doesn't buy one of the mushroom explanations," Myka wondered out loud as the trio walked the corridor towards the entrance while someone else just entered from the outside.

"How about cheese, then? There's always cheese in something," Pete offered, "Or tomatoes, or sour cream…ooh! Sour cream!"

"Jesus, Pete, we'll get you some nachos," Myka interrupted him.

"I'm sorry, ok?" he apologized, "There was that restaurant we passed on the way and since then it's all I can think about. You remember; the one with the picture of the iguana in the sombrer…whoa."

He stopped walking as a sudden feeling hit him in the gut removing all thought of food or hunger. The two women saw this and stopped as well.

"What is it?" HG asked, while Myka already knew from all her field experience with Pete.

"Vibe?" the woman asked quietly leaning towards him.

He nodded, his features void of his trademark silliness as he elaborated, "A bad one. Really bad."

"About what? The case?" Myka asked worried, "B-But we got the artifact, the kids…did we miss something?"

"I don't know Myks. I can't be sure but I think it's something else," he quickly looked around, searching anxiously for something. He didn't know what exactly until… "Who's that?"

Myka and HG followed his line of sight until they saw the man who had recently entered and walked by them with a nod of acknowledgement. He was heading into the office they had just left.

"The guard?" HG asked curiously, "He wasn't here when we interviewed everyone yesterday, was he?"

"I haven't seen him," Myka stated, "Do you think he's causing your vibe?"

"Definitely."

"But what about him?"

"I don't know," Pete admitted, "But there's some seriously bad juju coming off that guy."

Without another word Pete made his way towards the office and opened the door without pause, leaning in.

"Hey there, sorry to interrupt," he declared as he came into the middle of the conversation the two were having, "I think I dropped something in here. Little flashlight keychain; little, blue, with a clicky thing on the back? You, well, you click it and a light comes on like a – "

"Flashlight?" the strange officer spoke up with a lift of his eyebrow.

Pete laughed and pointed at him as he walked in completely, "This guy knows what's up. I'm sorry I don't think we met."

"Should we have?" the man asked confused.

A sigh came from the man at the desk and he pinched the bridge of his nose, "This is one of the agents I was telling you about. All part of the fun you missed the past couple days."

"Oh," the man voiced and held out his hand, "Officer Andrew Ballent, pleasure to meet you. I have a lot of respect for the Secret Service."

"Pete Lattimer," he accepted his hand, hoping his face didn't give hand, hoping his face didn't anything away as that bad vibe intensified the moment their hands met, "Back at you. You guys are doing a great thing helping these kids get what they need."

"It's the job," he excused, "Just doing what I can."

"Right," Pete accepted, "So where were you while the fun was going down?"

"Had to get it covered yesterday; had a little situation at home," he replied, "February and a kid who hates to wear their coat, you know. Someone had to be home."

"I hear that, went through something similar not long ago."

"Oh yeah? Boy or girl?" Ballent questioned conversationally.

"Boy, well, ferret, but he's a boy ferret," he went on ignoring the strange looks he got, "Well it's actually my partner's ferret but I wanted to play with him and he got loose and ate something in my room, so I had to be the one who – you know, now that I think about it, it might have been my flashlight-"

"Are you finished Agent?" the unhappy man, who reminded Pete a little of a less cuddly Artie, finally couldn't hold back his irritation any longer.

"Right," Pete pointed at him, "Right I should head out. Nice to meet you."

Pete then made his way outside to where the girls were waiting at the rental car. They stood side by side, leaning against the hood. He noticed they were close enough that they were touching without making it look intentional or like it was anything more than what it appeared. That's the way it was while they were in the field, or at least in public where others might see; professional. They straightened up as he came, glancing expectantly at him through the reflective lenses of their sunglasses.

"He's definitely hiding something big," Pete announced, pulling out his Farnsworth as he got in the passenger seat, letting Myka drive while he called the warehouse.

"Artie, I need everything you can find on an Andrew Ballent, he's an officer at Farmington."

"I thought Myka said you got the hairclip. You did get the hairclip didn't you?"

"Yeah, we did, this is something else," Pete explained.

"Is it a real thing or like the time that waitress was mean to you? Because I already told you – "

"Artie it's serious. I'm getting major vibes from this guy: bad ones."

The older man sighed and grumbled, "Alright. Let me see what I can find."

A little over two hours later, the trio was pulling up to the curb in front of a two story house they now knew to be the man's address.

"OK so what's the plan?" Myka asked looking at the house.

"Plan? Don't look at me, I don't have a plan?" Pete admitted, "I'm not the plan guy."

"Well we can't knock on the door and say, 'Excuse me is your husband into anything dark or evil? My partner has a feeling."

"Feeling? It's not a feeling. Hunger is a feeling."

"Well, so is annoyance."

"Children," the calm voice of HG from the backseat broke into their argument, "Shall we?"

The woman opened the door and exited the vehicle, not waiting for the other two.

"Shall we?" Pete mocked in a false accent, "She could just say let's go. She doesn't have to go all Mary Poppins all the time."

"Well, Mary obviously has a plan," Myka replied, "So…shall we?"

 

X

 

A blonde woman answered the door after a few moments and eyed the three with a curious but not unwelcome look. After Helena introduced them as agents who'd been investigating an outbreak in the facility where her husband worked – and they'd shown their badges – the three were invited in.

"You think he could've brought something home with him; some virus?" she asked, worriedly running her fingers over her necklace. "Matt had a cold yesterday, is that related to this? He and his sister are both at school, should I bring them home? Oh God, I should call Andrew."

"Let's not jump to conclusions yet," Myka suggested, "No need to worry anyone until we know there's a reason to. If it's alright with you, I'd like to ask you a few questions while my colleagues have a look around."

"Of course," Tricia agreed right away and led the way into the living room.

Myka remained with her while Pete and HG wandered the rest of the house.

"Do you have any idea what we're searching for?" Helena asked him as they looked over the kitchen knick-knacks.

"That would be a no," he replied stretching out the last word, "Sort of hoping something will jump out at me, you know? Something that makes me go…" he paused as his eyes hit the window above the sink that looked out at the backyard, "…Aha."

He pointed at the window, letting the other agent follow the gesture to see what had gotten his attention, "That?"

"Shall we?" he tilted an imaginary hat, earning an amused lift of her eyebrow.

 

X

 

Claudia thought she'd been imaging it at first. It wouldn't have been the first time she saw something that wasn't there, especially since that last 'shower'. She had felt a fever begin to conquer her body rapidly after that night. So when she'd seen the images of two people walking out of the house, she thought at first that it was her fever playing games with her.

She had been staring at the clock ticking away in the corner of the television screen across the room as the camera recorded the footage. It had become her obsession. When she'd first come around in the room…with him, she'd spent all her energy being defiant and trying to work out an escape.

As each attempt or idea failed – or God help her the times she was caught out right by him – and his visits became more unpredictable, the notion of escaping began slipping away. As the pains and aches became a constant companion and her body became hungrier, weaker, sicker…what little energy she could muster throughout the endless days was spent staring at that timestamp.

The numbers changing over were a comfort in their predictability. Numbers were dependable. They had structure. Five would always turn to six, and at fifty-nine it would roll over and start a new count while the seconds added up the minutes and hours of passing time. She had no idea of the day or how many of them had passed since she'd found herself there, but she knew the time and that was comforting in a way.

She had been staring, zoned out on those running numbers when she saw them. Blinking several times in an attempt to clear the blur from her glazed eyes, she tried to focus on the moving images. The man and woman, well dressed enough to seem like professional types, continued to walk her way. Well, what she assumed was her way, since the cameras were meant to keep his eyes on whoever might wander too close when he was with her.

She tried not to get too hopeful; there were always kids in the yard who never seemed to care about whatever building she was in. More than once a woman had walked right into – what Claudia had to assume from the camera angles – the front door and while she was in there she didn't hear any of Claudia's shouts for help.

The man looked walked from screen to screen – the perimeter? – while the woman paused below the main camera before disappearing passed it.

She was inside.

Claudia felt the long forgotten sensation of adrenaline shoot through her body. She had to find a way to get their attention. She planted her feet on the floor and tried to scoot forward. She bit down on her lip at the strain on her muscles; they felt wasted and unused from sitting in the chair all almost the entire time. She tried again; pressing her feet and using everything she had left to try to drag herself and the chair toward the table.

The television, the cameras they were linked somehow. She'd had this idea early on but while she'd been following the cables and wires to find a source, he'd come back. He had nearly killed her that night. Since then the handcuffs had always been present.

Focus!

Her mind was wandering.

She was so tired and could feel the sickness continuing to rage against her. But she had to focus. She had to do something to help herself. She couldn't die here…in a hole at the mercy of some psycho.

She refused.

 

X

 

Pete entered the shed after circling it several times. He found HG exiting the doorway that led into a bathroom, gloves donned as she searched.

"Anything unusual?"

"This entire place seems unusual," HG replied, "It's eerily unassuming. Everything perfectly on display."

"Almost like someone expects you to walk in and take a look around," Pete read her thoughts exactly. He sighed and looked around the 'man-cave'. "Ok, so its Stepford perfect, even more reason to believe that there's some secret something going on here."

"The questions are what and where?"

 

X

 

Claudia was shaking, sweat drenching her from the extreme work of getting across the room. When she finally dragged herself to the table, she had to take a second to try and calm her racing heart and burning lungs. A few harsh coughs escaped her dry throat and she had to shake her head in an attempt to sharpen her sluggish senses. She looked back at the screen, realizing she couldn't see them anymore; they were both inside.

Regardless of their location, she took a breath and resolved to keep going. She could see someone else exiting through the back of the house now. The woman she'd seen before, Claudia had to assume it was the wife the man was always raging about, and another new woman. She wondered if his wife had any idea what her husband was doing. She doubted it, considering the way he talked about her.

/i/Focus!/i/

She chastised herself again.

At the table she moved to reach out and nearly forgot about the handcuffs restricting her movement until they bit into wrist, stopping any forward progress.

She yelled as much as her parched throat could allow and pulled and tugged as hard as possible. She couldn't miss this chance.

If she had something to pick the lock somehow…her eyes searched the table, as her adrenaline cleared the fevered fog from her sight. There; a pen on the table. She could make that work.

 

X

 

"Did you find anything?" Myka questioned as she came to the others at the backyard shed, Mrs. Ballent following behind.

"It's difficult to when we don't know what it is we're looking for," Helena answered.

"There's something here, I just, I can't put my finger on it," Pete replied.

Tricia looked at them all with new suspicion, "What exactly are you investigating? Drew hasn't mentioned anything about the secret service or any outbreak at the school."

"Well," Pete began, stretching the word out as he looked to his longtime partner for assistance.

"We only got to town yesterday. He wasn't at the facility then," she explained, "We only met him this morning."

"Still, I should probably call him."

"Ok, look," Pete started, "This is going to sound crazy but we have reason to believe your husband might be involved in something shady."

"What?" she asked with a disbelieving laugh in the word, "Andrew, he's wanted to be an officer all his life. All he cares about is doing the right thing and helping people. He wouldn't ever let himself get involved in anything…'shady'. You're right, you are crazy and your zipper has been undone since you got here."

Pete put his hands on his hips at her words, his voice kicking up in pitch as he responded.

"What? No it," he looked down and saw she was right and quickly fixed it, trying to hide his embarrassment, "Aw, man. Myks why wouldn't you tell me?"

"Be quiet," she ordered suddenly and holding her hand up.

"I'm just saying, you-"

"Shut up, Pete!" she demanded harshly, "Do you hear that?"

Everyone remained silent as they listened. It was quiet, but it was like a…a buzzing? No, more like a whirring; like a sound a machine would make.

"What is that?" Pete questioned while the warehouse agents searched for the source of the strange sound, "Sounds like, a bee…like a mechanical bee, probably flying around us right now."

The other agents ignored his theory and continued searching until Helena spoke up.

"There," she spoke standing directly under the shed's overhang and looking up in the crook where one would normally have no reason to look, "It looks like a camera."

"Who puts a security camera on a shed?" Pete asked, and then turned to Mrs. Ballent, "Where does that feed go?"

She shook her head with wide eyes and answered in shock, "I don't know. I had no idea that was there. It's just a shed. Andrew comes out here at night sometimes to watch tv, or listen to music, have dinner…you know, just be alone."

"You don't put up cameras unless you have a reason to keep an eye on something, or to make sure no one goes poking around," Myka thought aloud.

"Yeah, a faulty one at that; sounds like it's about to spin out of there and explode."

"But where does it link up? I didn't see anything inside," Helena thought.

"I don't know," Pete turned his attention, once again, to Tricia, "How about a panic room? You guys have one of those, maybe somewhere in the house?"

"No," she was feeling completely shaken; what else was her husband keeping from her.

Suddenly the sound stopped causing Myka to look up while taking a step closer.

"Guys, look," the curly haired woman suggested, "look at the LED light. Do you see that?"

"The blinking red light?" Pete asked squinting, "Well, yeah I see it. What-what am I supposed to notice now?"

"It's not just blinking," Myka thought; her seemingly endless file of memorized knowledge zipping through her mind as she continued to watch the light's blinking, "It almost looks like-"

"Morse code," Helena piped u watching it as she stood next to the other woman, "SOS. It's an SOS."

"What, someone's using the camera to signal for help?" Pete asked standing straighter, his weight shifting from foot to foot, preparing to spring into action the moment it was needed.

"I believe so," HG agreed.

"Where?" Pete asked, then turned to the camera and began speaking loudly, "We're Secret Service. Do you know where you are? Can you tell us?"

The light continued to blink and he turned back to the other agents.

"What are they saying?"

"It still says SOS," Myka informed him.

Helena came forward, "Boost me up. Let's have a look at it."

Pete looked surprised and the request but clasped his hands together and lifted her up once she placed her foot in it. She stood straight, inspecting the device above. Pete tilted his neck to pull his head away from the part of the woman that ended up very near his face.

"OOk," he spoke to no one as he tried not to ogle.

She hopped down a few seconds later.

"As I suspected," she announced, "this camera doesn't transmit audio."

"Alright, so whoever they are can't hear us," Myka went along, pulling out her badge and holding it up, Pete doing the same with his own.

"I have a…" Myka thought out loud as she reached in in her jacket pocket and pulled out the notebook she used when talking to witnesses. She wrote in block letters that would hopefully be legible through the camera and held it up.

WHERE ARE YOU?

She continued to hold it up until she saw the light stop and then start again in a new rhythm. Staring at it with complete focus, Myka deciphered it out loud.

"U…N…D…E…" she spoke with epiphany, "Under! Under the shed. That's why the cameras are here, there must be a-a basement or something under the shed. That's where the feed goes. Because he goes down there and has to make sure no one gets close to catching him."

"Catches him doing what?" Tricia asked in an emotional voice.

"Let's find out," Myka suggested, looking at Pete.

The three ran inside to search for anything that could be the entrance. Lifting rugs, moving chairs and tables, Pete even tried pulling out books in search of a secret passageway.

Pete found himself soon leaning against the island thinking desperately trying to think while Myka and HG tried to ask whoever was behind the light if they could tell them anything more. He groaned, hating to think that someone in need of help was so close but unreachable at the same time.

"Under…" he repeated to himself, looking down at the floor beneath his feet, feeling a pull of sadness in his chest.

He lowered himself to the floor, laying a palm against it as he spoke to the floor sympathetically, even if he thought he probably looked ridiculous doing it.

"I don't know if you can hear me, but if you're down there, just hold on. We'll get to you. I promise," he offered, "If you could give us any kind of hand right now that would be great though."

He turned his head to lay his ear against the floor in hopes of getting some kind of response. He heard nothing, but what he did get was his own little eureka moment.

The women returned with a rushed air around them.

"Nothing," Myka told him, "They stopped responding altogether."

"Guys, this," he stood up and placed his hand on the island, "it has to be this. There's space between it and the floor; a separation so it can move. I'm sure of it."

He pushed on it with all his strength and got nowhere.

"Damn it!"

"Check for a latch or a release," HG suggested coming quickly to aid him. She squatted down, running her fingers along the edges, opening one of the cabinet doors and doing the same on the inside of it, "Somewhere hidden, where it couldn't accidentally… be found."

She pressed something that felt out of place and heard an audible click.

Now Pete was able to slide it aside with little effort, "Booyah."

HG remained to keep an eye on the increasingly upset Mrs. Ballent, while Pete and Myka began descending the now revealed staircase.

Flashlights and teslas out, the two agents carefully descended the spiral steps, cautious of any possible danger.

"God, this is like Saw," he whispered then paused and tilted his head, "Maybe Saw 4…or 5. Wait which one had the – oh man."

He froze momentarily on the steps while Myka moved passed him and hurried over to the unexpected scene. Pete got his focus back and followed, working to clear the room and make sure there was no immediate threat.

The dark room was partially lit by the television screen. A chair was fallen over on the floor near the table. But what had Myka rushing over worriedly was the sight of the young girl sprawled on the concrete, a cluster of wires lying just beyond her hand. The woman knelt beside her and searched her for injury.

"She's burning up," she called out to Pete, "Call an ambulance. Now!"

X

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	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, I started watching W13 because years ago my parents found it on Netflix one day and they told me, "You should watch this show, there's a girl on here that reminds us of you." By that they meant sarcastic, use of the words "D-bag" and "Frak" (BSG!) and ever since I've loved this show like crazy.
> 
> PS in this story, Yes, HG was bronzed and un-bronzed as it happened on the show, but she never did any of the canon badness that followed.

LOST IN THE ECHO

Chapter 3

Helena had been around for a long time, granted a large portion of that had been in a stationary bronzed state, but many years nonetheless. In her time with the warehouse, both before and after the bronzer, she'd seen a lot of things that tested her emotional control in the field.

Now added to that list – and shooting straight up to nearly top if not claiming the number one spot completely – was the image of Pete walking with measured steps out of the shed; the limp form of a young girl carefully clutched in his arms. Helena felt her mouth fall open slightly at the sight of her.

Thin and sweaty with a sickly pallor and far too young.

It stirred something in the woman she couldn't control. She felt her ire rise as Pete gently set her on the jacket Myka had laid over the frosted ground before informing them that an ambulance was on the way. The inventor watched the scene and then spun around on the still silent woman beside her.

"Is this what passes for the right thing your husband so believes in?" HG asked her furiously, "Is this how he helps people?"

The woman was shaking violently, her wide eyes frozen on the girl on the ground.

"It's can't be," her voice was a whisper as she shook her head and her hand wandered to her necklace once more. "He wouldn't do this. This isn't-"

"Yes it bloody well is!" HG shouted, nearly in her face. Unable to control herself, her hand snapped out and latched onto the back of Mrs. Ballet's neck. The blonde let out a yelp of surprise as she was pushed a step forward," Look! Look what you've been letting happen in your home!"

"Helena!" Myka shouted from her spot beside Pete and the girl. She rose and forcibly separated the two, pushing Helena back and stepping with her; making sure to keep herself between the other agent's view of the woman, "What the hell are you doing?"

"I find it difficult to believe that woman knew nothing about this," Helena declared, "You can't think so."

"You need to calm down," Myka told her, not taking the time to remind her that 'difficult to believe' was practically in their job description. She looked her in the eyes and tried to quell the rage visible in them.

"Calm down?" the English woman repeated as if she were offended by the suggestion, "You want me to calm down? Myka, look what they've done to that child. She's protecting him; as much a monster as-"

"That's enough!" Myka said sharply, speaking to her in a way she never would in their personal relationship and couldn't remember truly needing to professionally either. Her eyes flicked up towards the house briefly when the sound of distant sirens grew in volume, "Why don't you go meet the ambulance, Agent Wells."

The use of the title came out in a pointed fashion, intended to remind her where she was and how she was supposed to be acting. Helena knew they'd be discussing this later and said nothing more. Myka watched her walk off before turning around with the intention to apologize on her behalf to Mrs. Ballent. Her eyes widened when she spotted the woman talking passionately into her cell phone and hurried over.

"Hey!" Myka hollered as she stormed over with the feeling that she already knew who she was talking to.

"…you sick son of a bitch, I swear if you-"The cell was ripped out of her hand and shut off.

"What are you doing? Did you tell him we were here?" Myka asked angrily.

"It was his voicemail," she answered, "I wanted to tell him that he's never coming anywhere near me or my children again. I don't even know who he is!"

Myka shook her head at the woman.

"So he knows we're here. He knows what we found," she pressed her tongue to the back of her teeth to keep from yelling at the woman herself, "Go sit over there. Now!"

Tricia fearfully complied with the agent's order and Myka went over to where Pete was still knelt over the girl. When his partner returned he looked up at her and gave her an update.

"Her fever's out of control," he informed, "and it looks like a couple fingers might be broken."

"We've got another problem."

X

X

Helena was sitting in the chair with her leg bouncing up and down anxiously, a most unladylike sight that her mother would've been all too quick to scold her for in her youth. But that was so very long ago, her mother was long gone, and she needed a safe way to expend the energy that had built up in the events leading up to the moment.

She'd ridden to the hospital with the girl – Lord, they didn't even know her name – while Myka and Pete attempted to confront Officer Ballent before he received his wife's message and fled.

Her eyes went again to the bed, roaming the girl's features as she slept. The flush in her cheeks still told of her high temperature, the short cropped red hair had likely seen better days, and bruises and scratches in various stages of healing peppered several patches of visible skin. She couldn't see it from the side of the bed she was sitting on, but Helena knew on her right hand, two fingers donned splints to keep the bones immobile.

The familiar buzzing broke her out of her thoughts. She eyed the girl once more to see if the sound had disturbed her before taking the Farnsworth out of the room.

"Please tell me you've found something," she greeted, getting straight to business when Artie's face appeared before her.

"There's nothing in any missing person's reports that matches the description you gave," Artie informed her, "If the hospital can't find anything, we'll likely have to wait for her to tell us herself."

HG let out a sigh and looked back into the room through the door she left cracked, "I worry that may be some time yet."

"Alright, keep me updated."

Just like that the screen went out. Artie was never one to mix pleasantries unnecessarily; this included things like greetings and goodbyes.

She was prepared to call Myka to check on the status of their own endeavor but thought better of it. If they were in the middle of any sort of confrontation the last thing Myka needed was a distraction. She would call as soon as she was able.

Still, Helena couldn't help but be anxious to hear from her. She worried enough over the woman on a normal mission, or what passed for normal in their lives. It wasn't as if Myka couldn't take care of herself in the field. A small smile threatened her face as she recalled their many sparring sessions and what they often led to afterward.

No it certainly wasn't lack of faith in her lover's ability as an agent that caused Helena's concern; she'd seen her take down men double her size and barely break a sweat. No, it was the evidence before her that proved this man they were going after obviously didn't care a bit about hurting someone that worried her. Especially if he knew he was found out, chances were he'd do whatever he thought was necessary to get away.

No.

Helena had to actually shake her head to stop the train of worrisome thoughts as well as the images it created in her mind. Having the imagination she did, which Myka enjoyed prodding and praising, was at times a curse. There was no end to the awful scenarios that could be conjured amidst her fears if she allowed it the power.

So she wouldn't allow it.

She returned to her spot in the room, keeping herself grounded by the repetitive sound of the machine beside the bed. She thought perhaps the beeping was a bit off tempo in comparison to the normal rhythm of a heart.

Deciding to occupy her time with logic instead of emotion and possibilities, Helena approached the machine, studying its display and hazarding guesses on the inner workings and how exactly each piece contributed to its function. The distraction worked well enough that she was surprised when the soft rustling sound came from behind her. As the noise suggested, the girl was making small movements beneath the thin blanket. Her head rolled to the side, facing Helena, and her hand clenched the sheet.

Helena closed the space between herself and the bed. She felt the urge to take the girl's hand and gently coax her through waking, but thought better of the idea. She was a stranger to this girl who'd obviously been through a traumatic ordeal. So instead, she held the rail in place of a hand and silently willed the girl to open her eyes. She was rewarded after a few more moments when small slits appeared where her eyes attempted to part.

As soon as the miniscule amount of her eyes appeared, they vanished again beneath the lids and lashes; a moan rolling out slowly.

"It's alright," Helena found herself saying to the girl in a soft tone, "You're safe now. It's alright."

Without conscious control over what she was doing, Helena was leaning forward and reaching a gentle hand out towards the girl. Her fingertips barely brushed the hot skin of her cheek when the young girl flinched and turned her head away. The agent pulled back immediately, the apology on her lips halting when she saw her eyes open once more; truly open.

The brown eyes looked her way, instantly guarded and suspicious of her intentions. Surprised, Helena took an extra heartbeat of time before placing a smile on her face and addressing the girl gently.

"Hello there," she greeted, "How are you feeling?"

The girl's eyes narrowed slightly as if trying to read her before she would decide to answer or not.

"You-"the sentence, whatever it was going to be, was interrupted by a sudden series of rough coughs.

Helena moved right away to fill the small cup on the tray with water and bring it over.

"Here, take small sips," she instructed, surprised when the patient shook her head even as she continued her coughing fit, "Come now, it will help."

The girl grimaced and forced out a "No," between clenched teeth, even while her chest was jerked with the effort to fight down the coughs.

Her face began to redden and Helena worried for the girl's breathing. For whatever reason she was absolutely refusing the water and Helena doubted she would want to resort to having someone sedate her. Selfishly, Helena also thought, if she were to fall unconscious again they would have to wait even longer without any answers about the mystery girl.

Forgetting any consideration of personal space and touches, the older woman – so much older than anyone would ever guess by looking – moved forward. Wrapping an arm around the girl's back, Helena pulled her up into a sitting position.

"It's alright. Let's just focus on breathing," she instructed, keeping a hold on the slouching girl as she continued to twitch and spasm against the fit, "Listen…now we need to get this under control. Otherwise these machines will alert the staff and they'll resort to sedation as they tend to. I suspect that's not something you'd want, is it? So try to breathe with me if you can."

Helena took slow purposeful breaths, moving her free hand in and out in pattern with it. She felt the tightly coiled body slowly attempt to match it and relax. After a few seconds the coughs and jerks began to become less frequent, eventually dissipating completely and leaving the girl sagging with the exhaustion of the episode.

"There we are," Helena said soothingly, running her hand over the slightly damp gown on her back, "That's better."

With her free hand the agent grabbed the controls and adjusted the mattress, raising it up to a reasonable incline before guiding the girl to lie back against it.

"Now, before we try speaking again, it really would be best to drink a little something. You seem to not want the water," she paused, watching the girl as she kept her eyes everywhere but the woman speaking to her, "I believe it has to do with your experience; in which case I wouldn't blame you at all. Perhaps you'd like something from a bottle with an unbroken seal?"

She watched the girl glance down at her lap, one hand trailing a finger over the splints on the other. Her lips quivered a moment before pressing together tightly. Still refusing to look at her, she nodded slightly to the offer.

Helena was quick to fetch a bottle of water from the nearest vending machine. She wasn't completely comfortable with leaving the girl alone, but didn't want her to feel overwhelmed. She believed she may have been making a little headway with her after helping her through her fit. When she returned to the room she found the girl in question sitting on the edge of the bed, her bare legs hanging over the edge as if she'd been in the middle of getting up and her head leaning down into her hands.

Honestly, HG wasn't entirely surprised by the girl's attempt. With a smirk pulling at her lips, she crossed the room and stood in front of her.

"Trying to 'make a break for it' as they say?"

The girl jerked; so absorbed, it seemed that she hadn't heard Helena come back. She glanced up with a look on her face as if she had been caught in a punishable act. It struck Helena and she instantly worked to cover it up and kept talking.

"I suspect I would be doing the same in your shoes," she admitted, "I'm not one for staying still very long."

"Stop," the rough voice came as her head returned to her hands.

"Stop what?" she asked, surprised at the voice and intrigued to build a dialogue.

A groan was her response and Helena suddenly realized the forgotten bottle in her hands. She held it out for her.

"Here you are," she offered, "I thought you'd appreciate breaking the seal yourself?"

A shaking hand accepted it and, after one unsuccessful attempt, she was able to open it on the second twist. She stared down at the open bottle for long enough that Helena almost said something. As she opened her mouth to do so, however, she was interrupted by that same rough voice instead.

"Cup."

Finding the request odd, Helena obliged regardless. Emptying the liquid that she'd offered earlier out of the cup, she gave the empty dish to the still nameless girl. She watched curiously as the bottle was tipped and a third of the cup filled with water. It was then held out in front of her and Helena looked at it unsure of why it was there. She accepted it though when the arm began to tremble as if it were struggling to remain straight.

"Thank you," she said politely as she took it in her hand.

A moment passed before she understood. She realized the girl wasn't just staring at her, she was watching her. She was waiting. The agent's eyes glanced to where the girl held the bottle in her uninjured hand; the grip tight enough to bend the cheap plastic beneath it. Adding it all up, Helena thought she knew what she was meant to do. Casually, she brought the cup up to her lips and took a hefty drink that was far from dignified; something more suitable to be found from Pete at the dinner table.

It appeared she'd judged it all correctly; as soon as she'd swallowed the girl began to drink what remained in the bottle. Helena understood it wasn't merely having an unopened bottle that she needed for assurance. After she'd apparently satisfied her thirst, she spoke again in a voice that sounded much better if still a bit off from illness.

"You were there," she spoke to Helena, "I saw you on the camera."

"I was, yes," she agreed with a nod, "My name is Helena. What's yours?"

The question was ignored as she went on.

"You're not a cop?" she eyes her, "You didn't show a badge when those other two did."

"Perhaps I didn't feel the need," Helena suggested, "As you said, there were already two on display."

"You still would've shown it. That's what cops do. And you…" she paused, once more leaning forward but forced herself back up again when Helena instinctively made a move in her direction. She swiped the back of her hand across her forehead and continued like the interruption hadn't happened, "You introduced yourself with your first name. So I repeat, not a cop."

At this Helena smiled at her.

"Well noted," she praised, "You're quite clever. Of course I gathered that from your manipulation of the camera. That was an incredibly intelligent plan."

The girl just shrugged and looked down, "It was no big thing."

"I'd say it was quite the 'big thing," Helena felt a little awkward using the phrase. It reminded her of her first days after being debronzed. The ambush of all that had changed since her days was a shock to say the least and it took some time for her to become used to it. Even now she still had moments where she had to look to Myka for a translation of something Pete would say.

"So…you got him?" she asked, "The guy who… you know."

"He wasn't on the property, but my partners are after him this very moment," she promised, "I assure you, the two of them will not give up until they've apprehended him. They never give up."

At that the girl looked at Helena warily, "How are they your partners if you're not a cop?"

"It's a bit complicated," she began, "You're correct, I'm not an officer, but I do work for the government."

This made the girl's eyes widen and she looked at Helena with a new wave of emotion on her face.

"Holy crap, you-you're with social services," she pushed herself off the mattress, her legs collapsing the moment her weight was on them. Helena reacted on instinct, her arms reaching out and hooking under the girl's shoulders, "Let me go!"

"You're still very sick," she reminded her as the girl struggled, "You shouldn't be exerting yourself."

"Frak you!" she growled, "I'm not going back! I'm not gonna be a part of your stupid system again! I don't care wha-"she started coughing again; her strength and adrenaline quickly leaving her as she did.

Helena held tight, carefully lowering herself to the floor with her as her body went limp.

"Shh, Shh," she sounded to the girl, "It's ok. I've got you."

"I'm not going back. I won't…" she continued with words along the same line, repeating them in almost a whisper to herself.

Helena ended up sitting back on her ankles, holding the girl against her chest and stroking her fingers through the short hair, trying not to think of the way the action used to soothe another, much younger girl, when she was distraught.

"You don't have to go anywhere," Helena found herself swearing to this girl she felt terribly protective of even though she'd only just met her, "No one is going to force you to go anywhere. I promise you."

"Who are you?" the girl asked breathlessly as she tried to compose herself after the moment of panic.

"My name is Helena," she told her again, "I'm someone you can trust. Can you tell me your name, dear?"

After a moment of silence, wherein HG assumed the girl was working over whether or not she could actually trust this person, she finally had an answer.

"Claudia."

X

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	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is about 95% dialogue. I apologize if you're not a fan of that but it adds to the story as it plays out in my head.  
> Hope you guys continue to like it! I'm already floored by the reception this had got from you all! Thanks a ba-jillion!

LOST IN THE ECHO

Chapter 4

Andrew wondered what the man wanted from him now. It was only a few hours into his shift and he was sure he hadn't done anything that would require an audience in front of Don.

He'd been making his rounds, holding back the urge to smash in the face of a particularly disrespectful punk, when his radio sang out for him to come to the main office. He replied that he'd be right there while fixing a glare on the kid and already planning exactly how he would let out this urge when he got back home.

He put on his best face and walked into the office. He paused in the open doorway, surprised to see two unexpected occupants as well. That goofball Secret Service agent from earlier and a stern looking woman were in front of the desk. There was no sign of the ridiculousness from earlier on Agent Lattimer's face; the stony expression was doubled by the woman with him. But hers was something icier, something almost…vengeful. Confused, he looked to his boss whose face gave nothing away.

"Don, what's-" his curious question was cut off when the man held up a hand to halt him.

"Officer Ballent," the woman began, shifting her hands to her hips, the jacket moving back to expose the badge and gun on her belt; an intentional move no doubt, "We're going to need you to come back with us."

"What this about?" he asked, suddenly nervous. But there was no way they knew. He had done it all so perfectly.

Pete stepped closer, standing in front of him and speaking with a dark seriousness that was absent the last time they spoke.

"I think you know exactly what this is about, Drew."

Only Tricia ever called him that. These agents had been to his house, talked to his wife. What could they have found? How could they have found anything? Tricia didn't know anything. She couldn't have said anything to give him away.

"No, I don't think I do," he challenged, continuing to play innocent.

Pete gave him a dark look and crossed his arms.

"Well you can come with us the easy way, or we can jog your memory right here and let your peers and all those kids know exactly who you are. On a personal note, I really hope you choose the hard way."

Pete watched the man seem to struggle with what was in front of him. Myka saw it coming before it happened. The look on his face as he realized he was up against the wall. Ballent took a sudden swing at Pete, catching her partner with the sucker punch to the jaw.

Myka was already chasing after him the second he took off. She ran as fast as she could, keeping him in her sights as he stayed just out of reach. She considered using her tesla the runner, but didn't want to risk the time of pulling it out to aim and shoot. He made it through the main door and was heading toward the graveled parking lot. She didn't know which car was his, but he was just enough ahead of her that if it was parked close, he might be able to get away. If that were the case she would definitely plant her feet and use her gun to stop him. She'd shot tires before, she'd do it again. She sure as hell wasn't letting this son of a bitch get away.

Myka pushed herself harder than she could remember going as she saw him near a truck that he seemed to be aiming for. Her mind supplied with her the too recent memory of walking down those stairs and seeing that girl down there; reminded her of Helena losing control…the look on her face…

These things fueled Myka and before she knew it she threw herself forward, her body slamming into his and taking him down. He hit the ground with a loud grunt of pain and Myka took unprofessional pleasure in causing it and more by getting up and digging her knee down into his back.

"Ok," he forced out in a pained breath as she wrenched his arms behind his back and cuffed them securely, "Ok, I shouldn't have run, I'm sorry."

"Not yet," Myka said as she pulled at his arms to force him up, "but you're going to be."

X

X

Helena sat in the chair once again after the girl – Claudia, she now knew – had calmed down and drifted back to sleep. The agent felt more frazzled than before she'd actually talked to her. She combed her fingers through her hair, sliding raven locks back away from her face as she leaned against the back of the chair.

She needed this emotionally trying day to be over. She needed the comfort of being held by the woman she loved. Her Farnsworth buzzed, cutting into her thoughts and causing her to jump. She scrambled to open it quickly, hoping it was Myka.

But once again it was not.

Artie immediately began talking, as always paying no heed to something as social as a greeting.

"I just spoke to Pete," he began, "They just finished questioning Ballent at the police station, but they didn't get much. He says he doesn't know her name; that he never…asked."

"Oh," Helena voiced, realizing that in the emotional rollercoaster that followed Claudia's waking, she hadn't kept the man up to date, "She woke briefly and I was able to speak to her."

"And of course I don't need to be told such trivial details," he replied sarcastically. Helena contained the urge to roll her eyes and went on, ignoring the statement.

"Her name is Claudia," she told him, "I didn't get a last name. I know it doesn't narrow it down too much, but it's a start until I can speak to her again."

"Oh, sure," he remarked, "How many girls named Claudia, could there possibly be in the…"

"As I said," she interrupted, "it's a start."

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, "anything else? Age? How she ended up there? Where she's from? Anything?"

"Just that she's a very bright girl."

"Wonderful, what else could I possibly need. If only I had her favorite color, the mystery would be solved."

"Wait," HG instructed before the man could attempt to end the call, "earlier, she thought I was a social worker. It put her in quite a panic and she tried to run. She said she wasn't going back into the system."

"The system?" he repeated, working the details over in his mind. Social worker and system…"Foster care. Now that does narrow it down."

And just like that he ended the call without another word.

"Charming," she commented and closed the Farnsworth with a sigh.

"Who's charming?" the voice caused Helena to turn towards the door where, to her immense relief, stood Myka, "Should I be jealous?"

Helena rose to her feet and failed at creating words for a moment. The ease with which Myka was standing there, leaning against the door frame with a crooked smirk on her face…she couldn't help herself. She closed the space between them and pulled the woman into her arms. Myka was caught a bit off guard as she suddenly found herself in the embrace, but her arms moved automatically; her body knowing exactly how to react and fit to Helena's.

"Hey," she began, rubbing a hand up and down her back.

Her words had no chance to go any further when those familiar lips pressed against hers. Just as quickly, however, Helena pulled back. One hand cupped against either side of Myka's face as the woman inspected her.

"Are you alright, darling?" she asked, those worried eyes scanning her face, "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," Myka assured her, wondering what was causing the extreme reactions from her girlfriend today. The last time she'd acted so upset in regards to a mission had been when Man Ray's camera had aged her to the point of near-death.

Myka remembered laying in the hospital bed, an old woman before her time, and Helena holding her hand. Myka had made a joke about their age gap being less extreme and then admitted that it was exactly the way she'd hoped to go: as an old woman, holding Helena's hand. The Englishwoman didn't appreciate the statement and an uncharacteristic sob had escaped her.

"Hey," Myka tried again, brushing the raven hair out of the woman's face, "I'm ok, really."

She pulled the hand away from her cheek and brought it to her lips to kiss it. She offered a smile and said again, "Really."

The other woman nodded, pressing her lips together in a watery smile.

"So," Helena took a breath to compose herself, "Artie said you and Pete were successful in apprehending Mr. Ballent?"

It was Myka's turn to sigh before she nodded, looking down to entwine her fingers with Helena's.

"We got him, but we still don't have any answers," she informed her regretfully, "He doesn't know who she is or where she came from. Or if he does, he isn't saying. That's all we got before he lawyered up. No leads on any artifact that might be in play in any of this."

"There's the strong possibility that there is no artifact," Helena theorized and then in a darker tone, "Sometimes people just do awful things."

Myka gave her hand a squeeze, to pull her out of the grip of the darkness of the past that reached towards her at times. The feeling grounded the woman, and she changed her voice became just a bit lighter than it had been.

"Well, I can help with one of those mysteries. Her name is Claudia; Artie is looking attempting to find out more."

Myka nodded, hoping their boss would find what they needed. She couldn't imagine how worried the girl's family must be.

"How is she?" her eyes travelling over to the sleeping teen; she'd guess…sixteen maybe.

"According to the doctor: she's underfed, two of her fingers are broken and she's got multiple bruises and cuts consistent with having been struck repeatedly," she listed, "They're most concerned with her fever."

She paused flexing her free hand open than closed and open again, feeling the urge to visit the so-called officer and perform an interrogation of her own.

Myka gave her hand a squeeze, trying to offer her some calming support when her upset became visible.

"The doctors know what they're doing," she told her, "She's in good hands."

Helena nodded, giving her lover a small smile she doubted actually looked like one.

"I know," she answered, "She was awake and lucid for a few minutes, but since then her temperature has gone back up."

The curly haired woman studied her for a few moments before she used her grip on her hand to guide her to the far corner of the room. When she got her there, she spoke in a low volume.

"What's going on with you today?" she asked; concern evident in her voice.

"What?"

"Come on, Helena," she went on, "The way you acted at the house? You're taking this case personally and I can see it affecting you even being in this room. Talk to me."

The Englishwoman didn't respond right away and instead let her eyes travel back to Claudia. Myka followed her gaze, seeing the slight stirring motions she was making in the bed. She got a thought and was almost hesitant to speak it out loud.

"Helena," she began cautiously, "is this about Christina?"

The other woman's eyes shot to her suddenly at the name and her hand went on instinct to the locket around her neck. Her heart clenched painfully at the mention of her daughter.

"Why would you say that?" she asked, almost sounding hurt by Myka's question, "What does Christina have to do with any of this?"

"I'm just saying, Claudia's a young girl-"

"She's not Christina."

The sharp words flew out of her mouth before she could try to stop them. She hated to be so curt with Myka, but the subject of her lost daughter was still – and would forever be – the sorest subject there was. Comparing Christina to Claudia like that was ludicrous. Sure, she was affected by the case, but who wouldn't be? Her want to help the young girl and see the man who harmed her pay for the pain he'd caused had nothing to do with Christina.

Right?

No, of course not.

Myka, seeing the distress the subject was bringing up, was quick to step close to her. Putting her hands on either of her cheeks and laying her forehead against Helena's. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly, quietly talking to her.

"I've got you," she assured her just as she would find herself doing after one of Helena's nightmares would leave her awake and shaken in the middle of the night, "You're with me."

Where Myka would have to talk Helena down from her past demons with soft spoken words, Helena used no words when the positions were reversed. When it was Myka who'd be shaken from nightmares and dark memories, instead of talking to her, Helena simply had to wrap her arms around her and hold her close.

After a few moments of this, Myka felt the cool touch of the other woman's hands on her own face and knew she was back with her.

"S'going on?" the slightly slurred words drew their attention back across the room.

Myka took note of the way Helena was quick to return to the bedside.

"How are you feeling, Claudia?" HG asked the girl while sliding a grouping of dampened hair away from her face.

"There were birds," she muttered, her eyes dancing around the room sluggishly.

"Is that so?" Helena questioned, "What type? I'm sorry I missed them."

"Huh?" Claudia asked, her forehead wrinkled up in confusion, "Who're you?"

"Oh, this is Myka Bering," Helena introduced, "She's one of the agents who found you. She was the first to notice your message in the light."

Claudia looked Myka over, squinting and relaxing her eyes more than once to focus on the woman as she came closer; standing beside Helena.

"Hello Claudia," she greeted with the kind of smile she used to get from social workers and potential fosters. That same, 'Oh poor girl' smile. It added nausea to the list of grievances her body now had. Her hand went to her head for a second as she wondered out loud.

"Is she one of the partners you were talking about?"

"Yes," she answered, "And as I promised, she and Agent Lattimer got the man who hurt you."

The girl took the news strangely; by not really reacting. She adjusted herself on the bed with a grimace, her tongue poked out to wet the dry lips that housed it and she spoke just one word.

"Cool."

Her eyes closed for a moment and she asked as she opened them back up: "Were you two kissing or was that some weird fever dream?"

The two women looked at each other in surprised speechlessness. It was Myka who attempted to answer.

"We, um…I –"

"No big deal," Claudia stated, "If you were…I just…I thought Joshua was here earlier, but that wasn't real. Cop and social worker kissing in my room sound kind of crazy. Jus wanna know what's real."

"As I told you before, darling, I'm not a social worker."

Claudia huffed a laugh that became a cough and her eyebrow popped up as she rolled her head on the pillow to face Helena.

"You're dodging,"

Helena let out a light laugh that danced into Myka's ears as she watched her flawlessly interact with the teenager.

"Well in that case," Helena began, her eyes moving to Myka for approval. The other woman shrugged, leaving it up to her, "Yes we were."

Claudia snickered, "Your partner's your partner."

Myka simply watched on, amused as Helena continued to chat with the girl, unfazed by the behavior Myka assumed was due to the fever. After a few minutes of odd conversation, Claudia asked a question.

"Can I go home?" she asked neither of them in particular.

"That's up to the doctor," Helena told her, "I suspect he'll want your temperature a bit lower first."

Helena put the back of her hand against her forehead but it was pushed away by the girl.

"M'fine," Claudia argued sluggishly, "Cool as a cucumber."

"Sure you are," the woman responded; her patience impressing Myka as she remained a silent observer.

More and more as the minutes passed in the room, Myka was convinced that her theory was on the nose. Helena was full of maternal instincts that had been in need of an outlet for years. It saddened her deeply to think about.

Helena was a mother without a child.

"…get some rest until then," the suggestion reaching her ears told Myka the conversation had gone on while she wasn't paying attention.

Claudia groaned in response to the instruction but Myka could see her eyes drooping already.

"Only 'cause m'bored," the redhead stubbornly replied, "You just wanna make out s'more."

"So much more," Helena said in an exaggerated tone, earning a puff of breath from the teen that she assumed was meant to be a laugh as her eyes finally closed all the way.

"Wake me up if Joshua comes."

Myka and Helena shared a look; Myka mouthing the name at her questioningly. But Helena could only shrug, not having an answer. But the girl had mentioned the name twice now, so this Joshua person had to be someone of importance.

"Who's Joshua?" Myka asked; hoping she hadn't completely fallen asleep yet, "Claudia? Claudia."

"What?" the girl's voice asked in a whine to Myka's persistence. Her eyes cracked open a bit.

"Who's Joshua?" Myka asked the girl again, "Is he someone we can call for you?"

"What? No," she answered harshly.

"If he's someone-"Myka began but was cut off.

"I'm sleeping," the girl snapped at her and rolled over, turning her back to the agents.

The sudden anger definitely seemed like there was more to it than the irritation of trying to sleep.

X

X

In his office, Artie finally came across the information he was looking for. The computer screen displayed the name and picture that matched the description the agents had given him of the mystery girl.

He adjusted his glasses and studied the photo. He didn't know why, but he thought…she seemed familiar.

Looking into the sharp eyes that stared out from the screen, almost accusingly, he couldn't figure out what it was. But there was something about her…something right beyond his grasp.

The man continued to stare, unsettled under the scrutiny of those eyes. He tried to come up with the answer. The more it eluded him, the more frustrating a task it became. He spoke her name out loud, hoping it may do something to jog his memory.

"Claudia Donovan."

X

X


	5. Chapter 5

LOST IN THE ECHO

Chapter 5.

Pete brought the rental to the hospital the following day to pick up the other two agents, so he was surprised when it was only Myka that came out and got in the car.

"Aren't you missing something?" he asked his partner, "About this tall, 'bout this British."

He said the final part in the obnoxious faux accent he'd adapted since the other woman became a regular member of their team.

"HG isn't coming," Myka informed him, keeping her eyes forward at the windshield, "She's staying with Claudia."

"Didn't you guys just stay the whole night with her?" Pete asked.

"Yep," Myka answered in the clipped way she did when she didn't want to talk about what was on her mind. Regardless, Pete never really took those hints anyway and continued to talk to her.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she replied, "Let's go."

"Mykes-"

"Do you have the address?" she asked to interrupt him.

He sighed and brought up the address Artie had given them on the GPS and began following the route. It was about ten minutes into the ride that the woman finally spoke.

"I'm worried about HG," she admitted.

"She did kind of freak out at the house," he mused aloud, attempting to follow along with Myka's reasoning.

"It's not just that," his partner went on, "It's more about Claudia."

"Claudia?" Pete questioned, confused by the introduction of the girl into the conversation, "The kid? What about her?"

"I'm worried she might be getting …attached."

"Well, you know, HG's a hot piece. You can't blame a kid for getting a little crushed out. Take it from someone who has HG's problem," he gestured to himself, "We can't help giving off this, you know, sensual magnetism-"

"Oh my God," Myka had to interrupt him before he went any further, "I'm talking about Helena getting attached to Claudia, Pete!"

"Oh. In that case, you have even less to worry about. HG is like 200 years old, she's already robbing the cradle with you, she's not gonna…" he trailed off as he glanced to his passenger seat and saw the look he was getting from his partner, "What? I got it wrong again, didn't I?"

"So wrong," Myka answered, shaking her head in disbelief and faced the windshield again, "And she's 143, thank you."

"My apologies," he said dryly; making a turn instructed by the GPS before quickly going on, "Ok then, can you explain it without the blanks or I'm just going to keep assuming, and you know what they say about assuming."

"I was watching them yesterday and the way HG is with her….she wouldn't leave the hospital last night, refused to leave this morning. She's great with her, you know? She's patient with her and gentle and she's at her side so concerned over health and talking to the doctors like a- a-"

"Mom?" Pete offered.

Myka sighed and rubbed her temple as she voiced her concerns.

"Exactly. That's the problem, Pete. Claudia has a family; foster or not, there are people who care about her. They've probably been worried out of their minds," Myka brushed her hair away from her face as the unruly curls reacted wildly along with her emotions, "I don't know, I'm just…worried, like I said."

She opened the glove compartment and pulled out the bag of Twizzlers she'd stashed in there, an essential purchase for every assignment in the event she got stressed enough to reach for them. Pete watched her pull out a licorice treat and take a bite out of it in a manner he knew to mean she was really fretting over something.

"Alright, listen Mykes and listen good because what I'm about to say is too gross to ever repeat," the man began, taking a breath and adjusting his hands on the steering wheel as if he were bracing himself for a true challenge, "Ok, here it goes. You and HG, you guys are solid. You're straight up adorable and in love and it's so disgustingly obvious that you're perfect together. So whatever happens today or whenever, everything is going to be ok. It will, because you'll be there for her and she'll be there for you and it'll all be this big, fluffy cloud of love and support."

Myka couldn't help the smile that pulled crookedly at her lips.

"Thanks Pete," she said genuinely.

"Yeah well…" he shrugged, "Just so you know, I'm here for you, too, Myka. I know you guys are together, but we're partners. I've got your back."

"Same goes for you," she told him as they pulled up to a small house, "Thank you for saying all that, Pete. I mean it; it was exactly what I needed to hear."

"You're welcome," he commented as he turned off the engine, "Think I gave myself cavities."

The two made their way to the front door and waited for an answer. After about a minute the door opened to reveal a blonde middle aged man with graying touched temples. He eyed the two agents up and down.

"Joseph Winters?"

"Yeah," he answered, narrowing his eyes, "Who are you?"

"Agents Bering and Lattimer," Myka continued to take the lead, "We're with the Secret Service. Mr. Winters, you and your wife are listed as the currently fostering a girl named Claudia Donovan, is that correct?"

The man became visibly anxious, Myka wasn't sure if it meant he was hiding something or just intimidated by their presence. It usually took a bit longer than the initial greeting for her to read that in someone.

"Uh, yeah," he finally answered; not sounding at all like someone concerned for a family member, "What's this about? What'd she do now?"

Pete and Myka shared a look at that question; the partners working closely together for so long the messages in the field could be passed silently.

"Mr. Winters is your wife home?" Myka asked.

The man scratched the back of his head before turning to the inside of the home and talking to someone out of view.

"David, go get your mother," there was a pause and a response the agents couldn't quite make out before Mr. Winters spoke again, "Do what I say."

"Do you mind if we step inside to talk with you two or would you rather your neighbors see us standing out here on your porch? Wouldn't want them to think you guys didn't know how to show proper hospitality or anything, right?" Pete questioned phrasing it in a way that he knew would get him the answer he wanted. He could tell by looking at the man that he wasn't someone who liked his business to out there for anyone else to see; and two suited agents standing at your front door would certainly cause a lot of talk.

"I guess, I mean," he looked around the room behind him a moment before stepping back and opening the door wider, "Yeah."

The agents stepped in to see the fair sized living room. It was in decent shape, fairly clean but for the evidence of a child's presence. Soon after entering a brunette was walking down the stairs behind a little boy – David, they assumed – and immediately looking to her husband for answers.

"Joey, what's going on?" she asked looking at their guests.

"These are Agents, uh…"

"Lattimer and this is Agent Bering," Pete spoke up for him.

"Right," Mr. Winters went on, running his hand back and forth through his hair, "they're here about Claudia."

"Claudia?" she repeated, and then made her way completely into the room to stand beside her husband, the picture of concern on her face, "Is she in some sort of trouble?"

Again the warehouse agents spared glances at each other, silently agreeing not to divulge the entire situation yet. These people were putting on a front for some reason.

"When was the last time you saw her?" Myka asked; irritated that they didn't even seem to realize she'd been missing.

"Oh, yesterday morning when she left for school," the woman answered.

"That's funny," Pete started, putting a finger to his chin and tapping it as if thinking hard about something, "Because I'm pretty sure she was a little busy yesterday morning; for several morning actually. So let's try that one again. The truth if you don't mind. We're kind of sticklers about that. When was the last time you saw her?"

The man sighed and glanced to his wife who attempted to send him a discreet headshake, but the action was clearly noticed by Myka. Even with the woman obviously discouraging him, her husband spoke up.

"It's been a few months," he confessed, getting a scoff of disappointment from his wife, "She took off in the middle of the night, I guess. Her stuff was gone one morning."

"How many is a few?" Pete asked for clarification.

"I don't know; four or five, maybe?"

"And you didn't think to call the police or her case worker?" he asked, "Let someone know she was missing?"

"You couldn't tell anyone," Myka spoke, making the connection on her own and looking at the two with critical eyes, "If they knew she wasn't here, they'd stop sending you checks."

The scrutiny clearly too much for the woman and she couldn't keep from bursting out defensively.

"Look, that girl was a handful. We were always getting calls from the school about her smarting off to teachers or not listening or getting in fights. She'd make all sorts of noises all night, screaming and playing that damn guitar of hers at all hours. One night I woke up at 3am cause of all this chaos coming from her room, I went in there and she was moving the furniture around! On top of that, she was always taking Joey's tools without asking, she was a horrible influence for David to be around. And she just leaves in the middle of the night like a common thief after we took her into our home," Mrs. Winters continued to rant angrily, "We deserved that money for everything we had to put up with."

"Claudia was nice," the little boy's voice came from where he sat on the stairs. His mother sighed as the adults all looked his way.

"David, honey, go play outside while we talk, ok?"

"You're talking bad about her, but she wasn't bad. She was my friend," the boy, who was maybe seven years old, argued back at her.

"She was bad, David," his mom told him, "That's why the police are here. Now go outside."

David's hands clenched around his Gameboy and his little feet stomped their way out the door.

Myka pressed her tongue against the back of her teeth, physically preventing herself from tearing into the people in front of her. When she finally spoke, it was controlled and tight.

"I suggest removing your name from the foster registration. You don't want to end up with another handful to put up with," with that said, Myka turned to leave.

"Wait, are you gonna tell us what you came for? What did she do?" the man asked, but the female agent already closed the door behind her leaving the couple to look to Pete for an answer.

Outside Myka found the boy on the steps playing with the handheld videogame.

"Hi, David, right?" she asked as a greeting, lowering to sit next to him, "I'm Myka."

"You're a police officer?" he asked, not stopping or looking up from his game.

"Kind of," she answered, "I'm a secret service agent."

She watched him continue to play feeling a bit awkward as she sat there. She was not good with kids. She'd never claimed otherwise, usually Pete or Helena were able to handle that aspect when they came across it.

"Do you have a badge?"

"I do," she answered and then after a second, "Want to see it?"

The sounds from his game stopped and he gave her his full attention as she pulled her badge off her belt and held it up. He looked at the shield with wide eyes.

"Cool," he told her, "Can I see your gun?"

She chuckled at that, "No. That stays right where it is."

He nodded though his face showed his disappointment. He took a moment and then spoke again in his curious tone.

"Are you here 'cause Claudia was bad, like Mama said? Do you have to arrest her?"

"No," Myka responded immediately, "Not at all. We're here because we…met Claudia, and she helped us find a bad guy. We wanted her family to know."

"She helped you catch him?" he asked, clearly impressed at the idea, "That's so cool! I knew she wasn't bad. Sometimes I would hear my mom and dad talking about her when she was here, or when they yelled at her, I didn't think they were right."

"Do you think that's why she left?"

"I dunno," he shrugged childishly, "She was sad a lot, or mad…it was hard to tell sometimes. I tried to cheer her up. I thought I could be her friend and then she'd be happy.

"I'm sure you helped her a lot," she gave him a smile. She hoped he wouldn't take on the traits of his parents as he got older, "Did she say anything to you when she left? Maybe where she was going or who she'd be with?"

He shrugged again, "I was asleep, but she said goodbye, kinda…I think."

"What do you mean?"

His eyes looked back at the house before he spoke again.

"You have to promise not to tell. I think my parents might get mad."

"I promise," she swore, concerned with what he was going to tell her.

"See this?" he held up his game. When Myka nodded he went on, "One time I asked my Dad for batteries 'cause mine died and he got mad at me for bugging him and he threw it. It was broken for a long time. After she was gone, I found it in my drawer. She fixed it and it works even better than before. And look at this!"

The boy flipped it over and slid the cover off the battery center. He showed it to Myka who lifted her eyebrows in surprise.

"No batteries! I don't know what she did, but it's working without them!" Where the batteries should have been, was a folded piece of paper. David pulled it out and handed it to the agent, "This was inside when I found it."

It was a smiley face drawn on the paper above all capital handwriting that read:

'STAY AWESOME!'

Myka couldn't help but smile at the paper that was noticeably weak at the creases. It was obvious that the boy had spent a lot of time folding and unfolding it, reading it multiple times since Claudia had left it for him.

"Looks like you were a great friend to her," she praised, handing it back to him.

"Would you tell her I said thanks?" he asked, "And that I hope she's happy now."

"Of course," she answered, "I'm sure she'll love to know how much you like it."

The door opened then and Pete exited out onto the porch. He looked a little stiff in his posture and it made Myka feel a bit guilty for leaving him alone with those people.

"You ready? He asked his partner.

"Yeah," Myka rose, dusting off her slacks as she answered, "It was great talking to you David. You make sure to do what Claudia wanted from you, ok? Stay awesome."

"Do you have a piece of paper I can use?" he asked, surprising Myka but she nodded and pulled out her memo pad, allowing him to use it, after a minute he folded it up and gave it back to her, "Can you give this to her?"

"I sure will," she agreed, putting it into her pocket, "Bye David."

He gave her a wide smile and wave, calling out "Bye!" as they walked back to the rental and he returned his focus to his game.

X

X

"You talk in your sleep."

The voice drew Claudia's eyes over to the chair to see the now familiar face. The woman looked more frazzled then she last remembered. Claudia wanted to comment but was quickly becoming aware of how awful she looked herself. If how gross she felt was any indication, Helena looked runway ready in comparison.

The redhead looked down at herself, pulling at the gown she wore, noting the dampness of the material against her skin.

"Ugh," she groaned, running a hand across her forehead to move the limp hair away from her eyes, "I'm like eighteen types of nasty."

The agent smirked at the statement, glad to see the girl coming out of the rough night – at least at first glance it seemed she had – better than she went in.

"How do you feel?"

"Sweaty," she answered, making another groan of disgust, "How many miles did I run last night?"

The girl pushed herself to sit higher up on the mattress and look around once more with clear eyes for the first time.

"Your fever broke early this morning," she was informed by the Englishwoman; "The doctor believes you're past the worst of it now."

"Did you say something about me talking in my sleep?" she asked, "What'd I say?"

"I couldn't make it out too clearly," Helena lied, aware of the sudden discomfort the girl had fallen under at the idea of giving something personal away. And from what Helena actually had heard her say, it was mostly more about the mysterious Joshua. Whoever he was, he was someone she had begged to come back in whatever scenario she was seeing in her head as she slept.

"Were you here all night?" Claudia asked, though she suspected she already knew the answer, "That seems kind of above and beyond the call of duty for a social worker or whatever the hell you are."

"You could say I've taken a special interest in you Claudia Donovan," Helena said to her, watching the girl's face for a reaction as she purposely used her full name.

"Well, bully for you, 007," she remarked, "You found me out. What happens now that you know my secret identity?"

"Nothing nefarious, I assure you," Helena promised, "We've tracked down your family. Myka and Pete left this morning to inform them of your situation."

Claudia scoffed at the words, "Sorry, but that's a swing and a miss. No family, just me. Me and a string of pit stop fosters. So if you're gonna try and send me to another, you're wasting everyone's time. Because I'm not staying. So why don't you just let me go home?"

"And where is home, Claudia?" she challenged with a lift of an eyebrow.

"I, you know, I've got a place," she answered vaguely; her shoulders lifting a bit and her voice trailing off, "Keep my stuff there and …whatever…"

The buzzing of her Farnsworth came then and the agent excused herself to the hall to answer it. Claudia waited until the door closed and then got out of the bed. She took a moment to get her balance.

"Ok," she said to herself, "I'd say I'm at about 86%. I can work with that. Step one: pants."

The teen moved to the drawer, finding the clothes she'd been wearing when she came in easily enough. She slid into her jeans and tossed the gown to the floor, replacing it with jacket, foregoing her shirt since her body felt so stiff she didn't want to spend the extra time it would take. She cringed at the sudden thought that someone had undressed her while she'd been unconscious.

Her eyes went to the suit jacket draped over the chair Helena had vacated. She went to the pockets hoping to find some cash. She wasn't proud of it, but survival had depended on her taking from others sometimes.

She felt something bulging in a pocket and reached in out of curiosity. Her hand came upon cold metal and she pulled out the strangest looking gun she'd ever seen.

"What the hell?" she questioned, looking at it closely.

She studied it with her technical eye. It was electric, almost like a taser gun, but she could tell it was much more powerful. She noted it was set up to require recharging after usage. She tried to get a good look at the visible circuitry when the door suddenly opened, causing her to jump violently.

She looked with wide eyes as Helena, Myka and the man from the camera – the Pete that was mentioned several times, she had to assume – stood there. When they saw her, he and Myka pulled out guns looking identical the one she held…and they were pointed right at her.

"Whoa, Whoa!" Claudia voiced immediately, holding her hands up, "Don't shoot!"

"Claudia, put down the tesla," Myka ordered calmly.

"The tes… oh this thing," Claudia spoke looking at the object she held in her hand above her head, "Here."

She held it out for the agents to take. Pete moved forward and pulled it quickly away, handing it behind his back to HG.

"Like Nikola Tesla?" she asked as she stepped back with her hands returning to the upward position they'd been in, "I get it, cause of the electric coil he – "

"What were you doing Claudia?" Myka asked, "Why were you going into HG's pockets? What were you looking for?"

"Nothing, I mean, yeah, ok maybe a few bucks for the bus," she confessed, "I found your…tesla, I guess, and…who are you people?"

"It's ok," Helena spoke up stepping forward as Claudia stepped back. The fearful action caused a pang in the agent's chest, "We're not going to hurt you, Claudia."

"How the hell do I know?" she questioned, "Right now the best I can hope for is that hose haven't been charged in a while so the shock won't be enough to kill me."

"Wait a minute, how do you know about how teslas work?" Pete asked.

"Because I have eyes, dude."

"OK, I'm gonna need the sarcasm to take a long walk."

"Let's all just calm down and discuss this like adults," Helena suggested.

"Discuss what?" Claudia asked, getting annoyed, "I don't know who you guys are. You say you're government but so was that guy. Some kind of cop or security or something; I saw his uniform the night he…You probably want to make sure I keep my mouth shut or something. That's why you've been here this whole time!"

"Ok, ok, look we're the good guys here," Myka tried to explain, holding out a hand and reaching into her pocket, "Here I'm supposed to give this to you."

Claudia eyed the piece of paper suspiciously and was quick to snatch it and step back. She opened it up and her eyes found the childish writing. 'THANK YOU' with a large smiling face drawn beneath it.

Her eyes softened a bit at the paper and soon enough Helena moved to stand directly in front of her.

"We are here to help you, Claudia," she tried again to convince her; "It's what we do."

"What kind of help?" she asked the woman, still on guard.

"How about we start with a place to stay?" she offered.

"I told you I've-"

"Yes, yes, I remember what you said," Helena interrupted, "But I mean more than a place to keep your things, as you put it."

"I'm not being placed again."

Helena smirked at her, and gestured to the chair.

"Let's sit," she suggested, with a lift of her eyebrow, "I've a proposition for you if you'd like to hear it."

X

X

X


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"It sticks sometimes," Claudia informed the women with her when the door didn't open on the first – or second- try. Normally she would force her shoulder into it but she knew in her current condition that action would likely do nothing more than leave her on her butt with another bruise added to her collection.

"Let me," Myka suggested, stepping forward and forcing the door open with an ease that made Claudia envious.

"Thanks," the young girl muttered in response while looking at the ground and scratching her head for a second, "Listen, just a heads up, I have a sort of roommate who might be on the wrong side of freaked out if you guys come in. So maybe wait outside?"

"Or we all pop in and let your roommate know there's nothing to worry about, " was Helena's counteroffer; a part of her not trusting that, even though they were on the second floor, that Claudia would make another attempt to take off and she was still in no condition to be running around on the streets on her own. Even if she was in perfect health at the moment, the idea of the girl out there alone bothered Helena deeply.

"Fine, just…try to seem less like…who you are," she requested before leading the agents into the small apartment space. She glanced around the empty area, finding no one else appeared to be home.

Swiping her hands on her jeans, she faced the women, doing her best to play off the beginnings of embarrassment of them seeing her less than stellar living conditions; or what had been her living conditions before it was downgraded even more.

"Um, let me change and get my stuff together," she suggested and then attempted to crack a joke, "Have a seat if you're feeling brave."

The agents decided to forego the offer, choosing instead to have a curious look around. Helena was inspecting a tabletop that held a laptop that looked unlike any she'd seen since she'd been introduced to the age of computers. It appeared to have been put together from pieces of several different styles of computer. She reached out to open it up, wondering if the thing could possibly function, when she heard Myka's voice.

"Hey," she called from the opposite side of the small room. When Helena glanced over her shoulder towards her, she saw the other woman holding up a book. It was a well-worn copy of The Time Machine. Myka sent her a grin, "Looks like you've got a fan."

"You forget darling, the writing isn't mine…only the theory and the science," she reminded her, "Besides that it could belong to the roommate."

"I didn't forget, "Myka answer, flipping through the pages of the novel as she started walking the short (very short) distance across the room. She tilted her head as she looked down at the cover of the book, "Something tells me –"

She stopped midsentence when the two were suddenly able to hear the murmur of voices from the room Claudia disappeared into. The voices grew louder and as soon as the agents made a move towards the room, the door opened with enough force to rattle the wall it slammed into and two bodies came stumbling out.

Claudia and a young man; the man's backward stumbling steps as the red head pushed forward against him made it clear who the instigator had been. Especially since the male voice continued to order the girl to calm down or knock it off.

The team nicknamed Bering and Wells, immediately stepped up to pull them apart. Helena wrapping her arms around Claudia's waist as she fought and flailed, despite her depleted health, to continue her attack.

"Calm down," the Englishwoman instructed the girl, "What's going on here?"

"She went crazy," the young man told them, happy to hide behind Myka.

"Enough!" Myka stated in her most commanding voice.

Claudia pulled away from Helena, bending over and grimacing as she grasped the hand that donned the splints. She muttered a few curses under her breath before speaking loud enough for the room to hear.

"He hocked my stuff," she accused breathlessly, before forcing herself to stand up straight, "Clothes, books, my guitar…"

Her words trailed off and she angrily lunged at him again, only to be caught around the waist once more by the agent. It was all too easy for the woman to handle the smaller girl.

"It's not my fault!" he defended, stepping back from the near attack behind Myka once again, "I thought you were gone. You haven't been here for like, two weeks or something."

"Not by choice, Duane!" she hollered back at him, "You-"

Her voice cut off by sudden coughing fit. Helena kept her hold on her, but loosened it so it was more comforting than restricting.

"Alright," she told her as the fit died down; the short interruption was a quick reminder of the recent hellish experience, "It's alright."

"I'm fine," Claudia argued, her chest heaving slightly as she caught her breath once more. She ran her hands through her hair and shook her head, "I'm fine."

"Who are these people?" Duane asked, as if just really noticing the women's true presence, "You're bringing suits in here?"

"Secret Service," Myka answered, seeing his eyes widen at her.

"Jesus," he voiced, backing up from the woman and then looking at Claudia fearfully, "What the hell did you get into, Claudia? Listen, I told her not to-"

"Shut up, Duane," she hissed, apparently worried he was about to divulge something she didn't want them to hear, "Where's my computer? I swear to God if you-"

Helena kept the girl from advancing on him once again as the threat left her mouth, "Stay calm."

"Yeah, listen to your handler," he put his two cents in, assuming the agents were there as part of a bust on the girl and would therefore keep her in check and protect him from her anger.

He wasn't expecting the glares of both suited women to turn to him so sharply.

"I suggest you answer her question," Myka told him, "Selling off possessions that aren't yours isn't exactly legal, Duane."

"What?" he asked her, clearly surprised, "It's not like I stole any of it, I thought it was abandoned."

"Her computer," Helena spoke up harshly, not caring for his excuses, "Is it here or not?"

"Yeah, it's over there," he gestured to the table Helena had been standing by and the laptop she'd taken interest in. Claudia wasted no time in going to it while Duane continued, "Couldn't give that thing away. Looks like Frankenstein falling apart."

"Frankenstein was the doctor, idiot."

Myka closed her mouth, having been about to make the same correction out of habit. She caught the smirk Helena tossed her way; knowing the common misconception was a huge annoyance for her partner, the bibliophile. Myka lifted her eyebrows to acknowledge it, but other than that, remained professional between the two and addressed Claudia.

"Is there anything else you need to grab?"

The girl held her computer against her chest as if it were a lifeline and turned around. Her eyes scanned the room quickly before grabbing a backpack from where it sat slumped against the wall. Testing the weight, she then attempted a juggling act of pressing it towards her chest as well with one hand and unzipping it with the other. Seeing the struggle of her actions, Helena decided to help without obstructing the girl's pride and supported the weight of the bag so she could inspect the interior.

Satisfied with whatever she found inside, she moved the bag onto her shoulder and then made a quick exit without another word to anyone.

Soon enough, Claudia found herself in the back of the silent car, coiled tightly in on herself and staring at the neon numbers of the dashboard clock while her anxious mind wondered whether or not she had made the right choice. All her thoughts were whirring by at a million miles an hour. Every thought and question and experience she'd ever had felt like it was tearing through her brain while she continued to focus on those numbers in front of her.

When her brain came upon the past weeks, she recalled each moment that occurred since that night she'd come across him.

It was a cold night, she remembered, and she'd been walking back to Duane's when a truck pulled up beside. He seemed concerned for her walking in the Midwest temperature with just her old jacket. She refused his offer several times, but he'd been so insistent and she honestly had been cold. When he told her he unzipped his jacket and showed her his uniform, Claudia became worried about getting a bigger spot on his radar – being too memorable – to continue protesting and decided to just get it over with.

After getting in she didn't remember much. She knew they drove for a while. She remembered a building panic as he drove past the turn she'd indicated and then a solid weight shoving into her; knocking the wind out of her lungs. A meaty hand covered her mouth and nose, an arm against her throat, her body being awkwardly crushed against the passenger door. She'd blindly, desperately, reached for the handle to open the door behind her and free her from the attack, but her hand continued to come up empty as she got lightheaded.

Then she was in that room.

She closed her eyes and shook her head, only slightly aware the car had stopped moving.

"Claudia," the woman's voice cut into her spiral of thoughts. She jerked violently, pressing the computer tighter against her, hearing the small taps that came when the splints on her fingers knocked against the plastic of the laptop. Her eyes shifted to where Helena was standing at the open door beside the teenager, sliding back over to the dashboard to see that the clock had gone dark; of course, because the car was off.

She turned to look out the door again, gazing beyond the woman and looking at the building behind her. The redhead exited the car and stood in place, shifting her weight awkwardly a moment.

"What time is it?" she asked, still looking at the building.

Helena took a moment to pull the golden watch out of her pocket. It was one of the modern accommodations she refused to make; she still used the old pocket watch rather than wear a wristwatch as Myka did or depend on the digital timing of a cell phone like Pete.

"6:15."

Claudia nodded at the information and then adjusted the strap on her shoulder and, holding her computer securely, followed the agents towards the hotel.

They led her to the suite, Helena had insisted on upgrading from the small room Artie had already reserved for his agents. Lucky she had now that they had an extra guest.

"The bedroom is there," she pointed to a doorway, "and there's a bathroom attached as well. Help yourself to the bed, Myka and I will take the couch."

"That makes the kind of sense that's non," Claudia replied, snapping out of her daze upon hearing the statement, "There's two of you and one of me. I'll take the couch."

"I'm told it unfolds into a mattress that's more than suitable for two," Helena told her.

"But-"

"How about a show of hands," Myka interrupted with a suggestion, "Raise your hand if you haven't just been released from the hospital."

Helena took her girlfriend's lead and lifter her hand alongside Myka, teaming up on the girl.

"Whatever, jeez. You don't have to go all couple-y on me," Claudia replied, taking her bag towards the indicated bedroom.

X

X

"No."

Artie's firm voice came over the Farnsworth while he glared at the screen, looking particularly unkempt.

"Artie-"Pete attempted to interject, standing next to Myka who had been the one to earn the negative answer.

"No," he said again, this time even harsher than the first.

"Artie, just-"Myka tried once more.

"What part of 'No' are you having trouble with?" he asked with frustration, "For that matter, what part of 'Top Secret' aren't you getting?"

"Look no one said anything about the warehouse," Myka was finally able to get her first full sentence in since Artie began spouting the repeat answer, "We're just talking about a room at the B and B; just, you know, until she gets a handle on what happened and what to do next. It's temporary."

"Oh sure," Artie grumbled, "Like the last time something was supposed to be temporary."

The agents heard the sharp bark come from off screen and Artie turned away to look over his shoulder.

"Yes, I mean you," he snapped at the dog, the agents shared quick grins of amusement with each other. They knew, despite his talk, Artie was as fond of Trailer as the dog was of him; if for no other reason than to have someone to talk to while alone at the warehouse. He turned back to the screen, still grumbling about the, so-called, ungrateful animal, "What were we talking about?"

"Claudia," the woman reminded him.

"Right, right, Claudia Donovan," he said the girl's full name and went silent for a moment; his hand running over his rough graying facial hair as if he were thinking deeply about a problem.

"Artie!" Myka said loudly, obviously not the first time she attempted to get his attention, "What's going on?"

"What? Nothing," he answered quickly, "Except that I have a thousand things to do and all my agents are playing babysitter instead of coming back to do their jobs."

His face was becoming red as he rambled on, running out of breath as he forced out the last word.

"Alright, alright," Pete held up his hands, "Let's lower the blood pressure before someone named Artie gets hurt. We'll catch the first morning flight and be back home before you can say ping."

"Thank you."

"With Claudia," he added firmly with a nod.

"Fine. Fine! You only work for me, why would it matter what I say?" he relented, then pointed his finger at the screen as if the agents were in front of him for a proper reprimand, "But it is temporary. She can stay at Leena's, but that's it. No shop talk in front of her, no mentioning the warehouse or artifacts or anything…at all!"

"Of course," Myka nodded in agreement, "As far as she knows we're government agents and that's it. Nothing unusual."

"Right," Pete nodded as well, then tilted his head, "Well except-"

Myka's freehand swung backwards, smacking Pete in the gut to stop him from going further.

"Except?" Artie questioned, his scrutinizing eyes coming closer to the screen, "Except what?"

Pete looked at Myka who looked at him with frustrated disbelief. She'd made a point of telling her partner to let her do the talking for this very reason.

"Except…" he started, trying to come up with something believable. He scratched at the side of his head, "Except nothing; I said accept as in accepted, like your terms are…accepted. Which you would've known right away if Myka didn't feel the need to hit me so much."

Myka rolled her eyes and shook her head at her partner.

"Myka…" Artie began, his warning tone telling her she better tell him the truth. She side and resigned herself to telling him the truth.

"Claudia found HG's tesla," she admitted.

"Top! Secret!"

Artie enunciated the words loudly and then ended the call without another word.

Left in the silence of the black screen, Myka pressed her lips together and closed her Farnsworth.

"Well, that could've been worse," Pete spoke, getting Myka to turn her stare his way. When he met her eyes he asked, "What?"

Myka could only shake her head and walked away.

X

X

X

X


End file.
